


You’re So Precious When You Smile

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Stiles Stilinski, Boys Kissing, Bully Jackson Whittemore, Bullying, Derek Hale is a Softie, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Forehead Kisses, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Public Display of Affection, Rough Kissing, Short One Shot, Teasing, soft Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23887837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: No one believes Stiles when he says he’s dating Derek, and it shouldn’t hurt him as much as it does.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 32
Kudos: 930





	You’re So Precious When You Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvanesDust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanesDust/gifts).



“Yeah right,” Jackson scoffed as he shut his locker door. He turned around to face the rest of the locker room, pulling on a shirt as he levelled Stiles with a judging glare. “You seriously expect us to believe that you’re dating someone, let alone someone as hot as you claim?”

“It’s the truth,” Stiles replied, a hint of irritation from having to repeat himself adding an edge to his voice.

He didn’t turn to look at Jackson or the others; he tried his best to ignore them as he packed his clothes into his sports bag, ignoring the feeling of anxiety that settled in his chest.

He glanced across at Scott who stood beside him, meeting his dark eyes for a second before his friend turned away.

 _Thanks a lot_ , Stiles thought, shoving the last of his gear into his bag.

“Okay, then let’s see a photo of him,” Jackson challenged.

“I don’t have any photos of him,” Stiles admitted. “He doesn’t like photos and I respect that.”

Well, that was close to the truth: Derek’s eyes always reflected light and would glow in pictures, and it was hard to explain that to someone who didn’t know about werewolves.

“You don’t have photos of him because he doesn’t exist,” Jackson proclaimed.

There was a wave of laughter from the others in the locker room.

“Whatever,” Stiles muttered under his voice so that Jackson wouldn’t hear him. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

He grabbed the last of his equipment, slung his bag over his shoulder, and made his way out of the locker room, followed by the hollering and hooting laughter of the rest of the team as they made cruel jibes at Stiles.

Stiles tightened his grip on the strap of his bag, his knuckles white with tension and his hands trembling. He tried his best to force their words out of his mind as he made his way down the hallway lined with lockers and towards the blue double doors that led out into the parking lot.

Scott trailed after him, calling out his name, but Stiles ignored him and kept walking.

Jackson and a few others followed them out of the change rooms and into the hallway, calling after Stiles as he made his way down the echoing, empty hallway.

Stiles shoved open the doors and stepped out into the fresh air. He looked across the parking lot to the young man who leant back against the hood of the sleek black Camaro.

A weight lifted off Stiles’ shoulders when he saw him.

He was wearing his favourite grey Henley and his worn leather jacket. His thick black hair was raked back from his face, messy but stylish, and a soft beard that cast a shadow across his jaw. His pale aventurine eyes seemed to change colour as they caught the afternoon light, shifting from hazel to green and to a shade of light blue.

Derek.

He was barely twenty but he looked older, probably because of his stern features; his square jaw, strong cheekbones, and resting sourwolf face.

Derek met his gaze, a kind smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile back. But it didn’t last long; his smile fell from his face as Jackson and the others came outside.

“Is that your boyfriend, Stilinski?” Jackson asked, his voice holding a mocking tone.

Stiles let out a measured breath, making his way down the steps and down the small footpath.

“He’s probably his babysitter,” Jackson remarked.

“He’s eighteen,” Scott replied.

“He’s _Stilinski_ ,” Jackson countered. “You’re honestly going to tell me that you think his dad _wouldn’t_ hire a babysitter to look after him?”

There was a chorus of laughter behind him, echoing across the parking lot.

Stiles bit his tongue.

Scott didn’t reply.

Stiles swallowed hard, dropping his gaze to his feet as he tried to blink back the tears that welled in his eyes. He shrugged his bag higher onto his shoulder as he made his way over to the car.

“Hey,” Derek said softly as Stiles came closer, pushing himself to his feet and reaching for the car door.

“Hey,” Stiles said quietly, his voice breaking slightly.

“You ready to go?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded. He stepped around the car, setting his duffle bag down in the back before sliding into the passenger’s seat.

Derek watched him, his brow furrowed in thought and his pale eyes darkening with worry.

The echoing laughter drifted across the open space.

He glanced over to where Jackson and the others stood by the door, talking and laughing, their eyes focused on Stiles.

Derek tightened his grip on the door handle, trying to ground himself. He let out a measured sigh and climbed into the car.

The apartment building towered high over the others, the brown brick building standing tall over the old industrial buildings of Beacon Hills. The glass windows that overlooked the city were misted with dirt.

It was still half-finished; Derek had been splitting his time between renovating the old Hale House and the apartments, and living in the loft until he finished rebuilding the house.

Derek pulled up before the loft and parked. He looked across to Stiles, watching the way the young man stared absentmindedly out the window.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked as he switched off the engine and turned in his seat to look at Stiles.

Stiles perked up in his seat, turning to look at Derek. He raised his brow questioningly.

“You haven’t said a word since I picked you up,” Derek pointed out.

“Just thinking,” Stiles said, pushing open the door and stepping out of the car. He grabbed his bag from the back seat and headed inside.

“Thinking about what?” Derek asked, following after him up the stairs and into the loft.

Stiles shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

He shoved open the heavy iron door, dropping his sport’s bag by the door. He kicked off his shoes and stepped down into the lowered lounge room, making his way into the small kitchenette to get a glass of water.

Derek lingered by the door, his hands in his jacket pockets as he stared out the wall of misted windows. He waited until Stiles came back out of the kitchen.

“Is this about Whittemore and the others? Did they say something?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter,” Stiles insisted.

“What did they say?” Derek asked, taking a step closer.

“It’s not true anyway, so it doesn’t matter,” Stiles said dismissively.

Derek stepped over to his side, catching Stiles’ hand and turning him around. He gently pulled him close, bundling the young man up in his arms.

“Stiles, whatever it is, it’s upsetting you, so it does matter,” Derek said softly. “And if it matters to you then it matters to me.”

Stiles bowed his head, looking down at his feet.

“They said that I was lying when I said I was dating you, that you were my babysitter because I’m such a disaster that my father wouldn’t trust me enough to leave me alone, and there’s no way that anyone would ever love me, let alone someone as good as you.”

Derek took Stiles’ face in his hands, cupping his cheeks and gently encouraging the young man to look up at him. His pale aventurine eyes were soft and full of love as he looked at Stiles.

“They’re wrong,” Derek said softly.

“I know they’re wrong,” Stiles said, his voice catching in his throat slightly. “But I also feel like they’re right; I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you don’t,” Derek agreed. “You deserve so much better than me.”

Stiles looked up at him, shocked.

“There is no one better than you,” Stiles argued.

“And there is no one better than you,” Derek said, his voice a soft purr as he rested his forehead against Stiles’.

“Really?” Stiles scoffed. “Me? Anxious, clumsy, sarcastic, weak.”

“Smart, kind, beautiful, strong,” Derek countered.

He gently brushed aside a stray strand of hair that fell forward across Stiles’ face. He leant forward, bringing their lips together in a sweet, tender kiss.

Stiles ran his hands up Derek’s chest, cupping his face with one hand.

Derek set his other hand on Stiles’ hip, steadying the two of them.

He drew back slowly, resting his forehead against Stiles’ and looking at him lovingly.

Stiles whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Derek said quietly, a rosy pink blush colouring his cheeks as a sweet smile turned up the corners of his lips.

Stiles felt his heart melt, a smile playing across his lips as he looked up at Derek.

“ _Stop_ ,” Stiles whined, his voice breaking away into soft laughter as he averted his eyes.

“Stop what?” Derek asked, chuckling quietly.

“Stop being so cute,” Stiles said, burying his face in Derek’s chest as his face flushed red. “You’re too damn precious.”

Derek let out a deep chuckle, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ shoulders and holding him close.

Stiles nuzzled his face into the soft cotton of Derek’s Henley, muttering quietly as he stumbled over his words.

Derek pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head, resting his cheek atop the tousled mess of his hair.

Stiles shifted his head, looking up at Derek. He smiled sweetly, looking at him lovingly.

Derek leant forward and pressed a tender kiss to Stiles’ forehead, making him smile more.

The engine of the Camaro purred as Derek pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.

“Bye,” Stiles said, leaning across the car and pressing a kiss to Derek’s cheek.

“Bye,” Derek replied softly as Stiles grabbed his bag and climbed out of the car. “I’ll pick you up after school.”

“Okay, see you later,” Stiles said, offering Derek a smile before closing the door.

Derek smiled in return, watching as Stiles stepped up onto the footpath and started to make his way towards the double doors that led inside. His eyes drifted across the parking lot to where Jackson and his clique stood, leaning back against one of the brick walls. He watched as Jackson’s eyes tracked Stiles before leaning over to his friends and muttering something that was followed with a wave of hooting laughter.

Derek shoved open the car door and stepped out of the car.

“Stiles,” he called out.

Stiles turned back to face him. “Yeah?”

Derek waved him over.

Stiles’ brow furrowed in confusion as he walked back over to Derek’s side.

Derek reached out and grabbed the hem of Stiles’ shirt, pulling him in close. A devilish smile turned up the corner of his lips as he cupped Stiles’ face with his other hand and closed the space between them, drawing their lips together.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. His eyes fluttered shut as his fingers brushed against the soft, worn fabric of Derek’s Henley. 

Derek drew back slowly, grinning at Stiles’ euphoric expression.

Stiles tilted his chin, smiling up at Derek.

“I hope that wasn’t to prove a point,” Stiles said quietly enough that only Derek would hear.

“No,” Derek whispered. He pulled Stiles closer, pressing the young man’s body up against his. He leant in closer, his breath rolling across Stiles’ lips as he whispered, “ _This_ is to prove a point.”

He brought their lips together again, a little more passionately this time.

Derek dropped his hands to Stiles’ waist and pulled him close, enveloping him in his warmth.

Stiles gently balled the fabric of Derek’s shirt into his fist, clinging to it as Derek dropped his hands to Stiles’ waist and pulled him close, enveloping him in his warmth.

He felt Stiles smile against his lips.

Stiles’ breath escaped him as he melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut as he cupped Derek’s face with one hand; his other hand running up Derek’s arm, clinging to the worn leather of his jacket as if he were afraid to fall.

Derek tilted his chin, deepening the kiss.

Stiles wove his fingers into Derek’s hair, balling the soft tufts into his hand.

He drew back slowly, grinning at the expression on Stiles’ face as the young man tilted his chin and chased Derek’s lips.

He let out a low chuckle as he brought their lips back together again in a tender, chaste kiss.

“I’ll see you later,” Derek whispered.

“See you later,” Stiles replied, smiling—awed.

He gave Derek another sweet kiss before turning back towards the school.

Derek watched as he walked away. He reached for the car door, catching Jackson’s stunned gaze as he turned away. A coy smile played across his lips for a second before he climbed into the car and drove away.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
